


He Choose Castle Black

by Tea_Queen_2112



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Au where Theon goes to the wall instead of the iron islands, Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Implied/Referenced Torture, Minor Injuries, Season 6 divergence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-28
Updated: 2019-10-28
Packaged: 2020-09-28 19:43:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20431427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tea_Queen_2112/pseuds/Tea_Queen_2112
Summary: Theon should have gone home. He wanted to go home. It would have been better for everyone if he had but he didn't. Choosing to follow Brienne on his horse he changes his fate as he chooses to go to the wall rather then the Iron Islands and the consequences are beyond even the god's control.





	1. Onto the Wall they rode

**Author's Note:**

> Honestly started this fic just before the start of season 8. Well since the show ended this is probably my last GoT fic.

“Can I have one of the horses?” He asked.

Blood was still fresh on his clothes, half-frozen to his skin. 

Theon bowed his head before the lady Sansa. He didn’t want to look her in the eyes when he was requesting what he wanted. He was told so many times he should be grateful for what he already had. He licked his freezing lips to stop them from quivering. The taste of blood on his tongue. 

Sansa looked around. “Where will you go?”

“Home.”

They had just escaped from the grasp of the Bolton family. Both worse for wear. Through the fire, Podrick made kept them warm the chill lingered as long as they were exposed in the open. They weren’t going to be stopping for long. Only to get some cooked meat and check the horses weren’t about to keel over. 

Sansa wouldn’t accept this. She couldn’t. 

She grabbed his arm. 

“Your home is with me Theon. Those Bolton men could still be after you if you separate from us. And you don't have money. Please, Theon I can't lose you.” She begged him. Her trembling body was from the bitterness of the winds but he chanced to think that perhaps she was trembling with tears. Having someone care about him, not with malicious intent. Her hands together almost as if she was praying for him to stay. 

Sansa felt like she was a child again, pleading with her one and only. Begging her golden prince not to behead her traitorous father. 

Sansa had become that little girl from Winterfell all those years ago. A timid little thing alone and scared. Her family were either dead or missing with men who hated her coming for her. Theon was the only one she had left in this world and her wolf claws had already sunk in. 

Theon wanted to go home. He was tired. His body was tired. His mind was exhausted. He would want nothing more than to go back to his old room at Pyke and simply pull the blanket covers over him and sleep away the last years that have haunted him. Hoping the sleep would help him to forget everything.

With that one look from Sansa he knew it wasn’t an option. The girl he’d seen flowering into a woman before his very eyes. He couldn't abandon her when she needed him most. They were not bound by their bloodlines but they were bound by something else. Between the Watchers on the Wall and the Bolton huntsmen he’d rather take his chances with the ravens. They knew of mercy and would be swift in their punishments.

“Alright. I'll ride with you to Castle Black.”

The things he did for the ones he loved. He grabbed the reins of his horse and nodded. 

“But,” He added, turning back to face her. “I'm going to leave for the Iron Islands when I am ready.” He felt sorry for the horse. It would be a lot of harsh labour for the dark creature. 

Those eyes wanted to convince him otherwise. She wanted him to stay by her side now more than ever. It was his freedom and he was already doing her a service by making his escort her all the way to the wall. She clasped her hands together. 

“Of course.” Even if it was only until Castle black she could cherish this moment with him. She already felt guilty that she was putting pressure on him to stay with her but the more people they had the better. 

Brienne saw the altercation. There was no blame in him thinking of his home. If anything she wanted to return to where she felt most at home. Against the Bolton men Theon wouldn’t stand a chance. She’d seen men starved before but never one who walked among the living. He was still twitching from the shock of killing that random lackey. 

They mounted their respective horses. The one that Theon could have taken away was joined with them. He trailed behind the three of them, only slightly behind the squire's horse. 

The ride up to the Wall was surprisingly talkative. 

Sansa and Podrick talking about their perceptions of knights. Podrick and Brienne about how he could work on his sword technique. All of them chatting and lightening the mood. Theon was the only one who barely spoke. As if an invisible force grabbed his throat. He occasionally joined in but preferred to remain in his silence trying to take it all in. 

He’d escaped the Boltons. He’d killed Myranda. He’d done all of this. Now he could leave this cursed hell behind and move on. The crack of Myranda was the freshest in his mind. His hands could still feel her hips as he threw her. 

Something he couldn’t remember feeling for the longest time. 

Theon had seldom seen the world outside of Winterfell or the Iron Islands. Knowing the difference between the sand and the snow. Due to his situation it made sense. There had always been tales about what Castle Black looked like. Always second-hand sources or whispers. Rumours passed through chapped lips. Theon often likes to dream of his life had he chosen the black over his own pride. To exchange one life of servitude for another. He pulled the cloak moreover himself moving the little bit of snow that had gathered around him.

Sansa never looked back. She kept her eyes cast forward at all times. The wolf had to be strong like her father before her. Brienne kept stealing glances at Theon, she had been so subtle about it that he didn’t even notice until a couple of hours into the journey. Podrick was a bit less subtle about things and was practically staring anytime he made a sound.

Both women had assured him that Podrick was a good lad, a simple squire. Something about his look. That black hair, those cheeks and square jaw. Theon looked back to his hands. Hoping his gaze would fall off him. 

The winds were getting harsher the further they rode. The three began shivering while the fourth felt nothing. Despite wearing only rags the winter’s kiss pierce his thin skin. The snow lashing down on him a light breeze

It had gotten to the point where they could see the Castle just appearing on the horizon and the Wall in all its majesty standing before them. The wall stretched across the sky like a white dragon from the days of Visenya, Aegon and Rhaenys. In grandeur, the wall stood uncontested for the past millennia and would for the next. Theon hesitated as his expression curled. What he was looking in absolute awe at could very well be the place where he could be beheaded within the next hour. 

“They’ll follow us here.” He turned around on his horse.

Those were known to track people for miles upon miles. Their noses were the strongest part of them. They smelled him before. He lived with them, he was practically a part of the pack. A little known fact about Ramsay’s bitches is while they could tear the meat of a chicken bone the time it took to clean a cup they were loyal to the end and if one dog was gone for long they would do everything to get their packmate back. 

“We have not been followed so far.” Brienne agitatedly reminded him. She’d already told him three times that they wouldn’t be able to follow them through the rivers they had taken and the amount of snow would dull their senses. She didn’t appreciate her judgement being called into question like this. Her eyes turning a paler shade of blue and he promptly closed his mouth. 

He mumbled a quick apology before turning the right way around. 

“I shouldn’t go. Jon will kill me. If not some other Northern man.” He threw down his hands by his side. His eyes reflecting the fear of the wall, 

Theon looked back south. They’d already done so much of their journey already. Jon would kill him the moment he laid eyes on him. Then again if he went south he risked running into Ramsay’s men along the way and the only way he’d return to Winterfell was with a knife in his stomach. 

Sansa halted her horse and waited for Theon to ride up beside her. 

Sansa cupped Theon by his cheek when he was an arm's length away. She didn’t utter a word. Theon knew he couldn’t break a promise. 

To her, it was clear he needed more reassurance that he would remain unharmed. Quickly she turned towards Brienne. Brienne was momentarily taken out of her moment. She hadn’t been expecting Sansa to mention her. 

“Brienne you are my knight yes?” She asked. 

“Yes My lady,” Brienne said.

Sansa straightened up her slack back. “Then I ask you to protect Theon from my brother. Until he’s certain that he won’t be slain by his or any others hand.” A small command but an achievable one. 

“I will do as you command Lady Stark.” She was indifferent to Theon but if Sansa wanted him protected then she would do her best to serve the lady. Besides the boy had done well to protect as long as she did for his condition. She’d seen his limp and fingers. If Jon was able to honestly look at him and put a sword to his throat then he was more ruthless then she had imagined him to be.

Theon could see Sansa’s sentiment. A lady knight to protect him but he doubted that even once Jon gave his word he would go back on his promise. For a turn cloak like himself. If he was lucky his stench might turn Jon away. His hair was mangier so he might not even be able to see his face. If anything they shouldn’t recognise him

His mind unbonded from its panicked state and he regripped control of the reigns. 

Onwards to Castle Black they rode.


	2. Castle Black

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They arrive at the castle

They rode into the Court Yard where Jon was waiting for them all to arrive. The grand doors opened up for them upon their arrival. It was clear they’d been spotted approaching. 

Theon could see everyone staring at them. Jon looked on with hope in his eyes. He looked so much different from when he last saw him. Theon could see his hair was still uncut. Still, no girl he loved more than his hair. He looked aged. Nothing compared to him but still he supposed the years must have been hard at the wall. 

Men began to surround them. They all intrigued by the lady knight and the red-headed lady, not paying much mind to the men in the entourage. Also, something that was to be noted was that a wildly ginger was particularly interested in looking at Brienne. 

Sansa waste no time in rushing down off her horse. Her eyes and Jon’s met what must have been for the first time in years. They’d both been so young. 

The reunion between the two of them was sweet to everyone watching. Podrick had a cute little smile on his face. Sansa finally reunited with her family. Lady Brienne ever had a little twitch in the corner of her mouth. Her task was half completed. The Stark girl was finally safe in the hands of her brother. She held him tighter than the grip of death itself. 

Sansa was sobbing into his shoulder. Jon never looked away from her once. 

Theon envied that. Being able to see a family member after so long and hug them which such gentleness. Theon couldn’t do that yet, not that Yara would be welcoming him home with open arms. To be held with such tenderness as a mother. He could never touch anyone like that again without thinking about him. 

Ramsay’s bitterness would not poison him now. 

Theon sighed but smiled. This was Sansa’s moment to be happy and his frowning shouldn’t ruin that for her. They were interlaced for the next minute until he finally let Sansa go to look at his face. He was scarred with marks on his face. Some old, some newer. He certainly wasn’t the bastard who had left Winterfell along with her uncle. 

“Sansa. It has been a long time has it not? You were Ned Stark’s young daughter and now you are your lady.”

“And you no longer the bastard but a Lord Commander of the Night's Watch.

“Who are these people? It seems fitting I should know who your saviours are.” He was only now going to ask about the people she arrived with. Brienne and Podrick stepped forwards. 

“This is Brienne. She served my mother. She got me here.” 

Brienne tried her best to curtsy before Jon but it came off as more a bow. Jon had heard tales of the giant woman knight but he never thought he’d get to see her in person. She was as impressive as she was tall. He extended his hand for her to shake. He too noted that there was a strong grip, good for holding a sword. There was no doubt she protected her well. 

Next in line, she introduced the smaller man. He was smiling. A baby-like a face but the body of a soldier. 

“This is Podrick. He serves Brienne. He used to be Tyrion’s squire.” He seemed like a man in his 20s. Far too old to be squiring for a knight but he supposed you really wouldn’t mind what age you were if you had the chance to travel along with the likes of Brienne of Tarth. 

“And who do you serve?” He was speaking to Theon directly. He hadn’t seen his eyes for Theon’s head kept looking down. If he saw his eyes he would be recognised immediately. Jon saw the wisps of long mangled hair. His clothes were covered in mud and grime. Despite the snow, Jon could smell a hint of how foul he was. His wading through the cold river got rid of most of the immediate sketch but a thorough bath was in order. 

Jon had seen him upon entering and assumed he was some kind of beggar who tagged along with the lady knight and her squire. Or he might have been another captive they saved from the Dreadfort. 

“Jon. You must promise me you do not harm him.” 

With a confused look, Jon gave Sansa the nod of approval. 

“Alright. I promise.”

“Theon. He saved me from Winterfell.” Sansa said moving right beside him and bringing his head up to look at Jon. 

Jon blinked. It wasn’t possible. He hadn’t heard anything about the Greyjoy for a while. Everyone simply assumed that he had died in captivity and that was the end of it. To see him alive would allow him to exact revenge for Robb. The brother who’d died after his betrayal. 

A Stark temper filled him and he did the only thing he knew how to do. 

Jon grabbed Theon by the collar, dragging him to the stone-cold floor. Theon gasped and was wriggling all he could.

Longclaw already drawn from its sheath and on the way to stab him Theon’s heart. 

“Jon!” Sansa spoke. 

Theon mouthed “Please do it”. 

A sudden body stood between Jon’s blade and the cowering man. The lady knight towered over him, holding her sharpened sword to Jon’s chest. The look in her eye told him there would be no hesitation in her fulfilling her duties should it be required. Jon looked to Theon again who had his eyes closed and straining his neck out. 

Jon saw no signs of the woman standing down. He supposed that he did promise Sansa to leave him unharmed for the time being. Even if it did mean betraying Robb’s memory. 

“You are lucky you are in Sansa’s favour.” Jon sheathed longclaw. He simply looked down at the Greyjoy and looked at what he’d become. He didn’t look like himself in the least. Last time he’d taken such great care in his appearance, making sure every inch of his body was as smooth as a newborn. This was the first time he’d worn rags in his life. Even Jon as a child wasn’t forced to wear such things and he was a bastard. 

Theon opened his eyes to see that Jon was putting his sword back into his belt. Theon let his headrest on the ground. He’d come so close. He knew he didn’t want to meet death yet but in that moment of seeing Jon, he remembered the last time they’d properly talked. The shaving with Robb. Sweet, beloved and dead Robb. He turned over to the side and clenched his fist. 

Theon picked himself up and looked around to the other nights watch. He wanted to see if any of them would finish the job for Jon. They seemed disinterested and went about their duties once the show was over. He knew better than to take his eyes off them. 

“He still killed Bran and Rickon.” Jon wasn’t going to let his guard down so easily. 

“They weren’t Bran and Rickon. They were two farm boys. Killed to make it seem like I'd killed the two lords. I’m sorry.” Theon said. 

“He’s just saying that so we don't kill him.” Jon naturally didn't believe a single word he said. A snake’s tongue would always say anything to get out of their trap. Sansa angeled herself between the two. 

“No. He told me the same thing when I was in Winterfell. It’s the truth. He wouldn’t have any reason to lie then and he doesn’t now.” 

Sansa could see what Jon was thinking. Even though they hadn’t seen each other in years surely their bond would still be strong enough to listen to her pleas. 

“He still betrayed Robb.”

“Yes. Yes, he did. But he saved me, Jon. I think he’s paid enough. Sansa said. 

“Can you trust him?” 

It was becoming evident that he wasn't going to have a choice in any of this.

“He lied to the Bolton men for me. He tried to distract them. They would have had the dogs maul me had he not been there.” 

Jon knew Sansa wasn’t the type to lie about something so grave. Jon looked to Theon again. He supposed out of all of them there he was the least likely to pose a threat. 

“Fine. I still don’t like him.”

Sansa could have rolled her eyes at him. He sounded like a petulant child. 

“When did I ask you to? Just please don’t harm him. He’s been through enough.” 

“Alright.” Jon supposed that if Sansa was protecting him then he supposed that he could allow him to live. He would have said something along the lines of not suffering enough but seeing the way Sansa was getting riled up he thought it best to leave it. 

Jon looked to Theon again before he decided to go tell the chef to start making soup. Such a pathetic creature. 

Theon’s eyes looking everywhere around the new location. Only briefly did he hear the news about Jon sparing him. The ramparts, in particular, caught his eye. 

Sansa noticed his trance. She pulled his hand away and made him look at her. He simply glanced up one more time before directing his attention to her. 

“What you did was good.”

“How can it be good? I killed a woman in cold blood. First children now women. I am a monster.”

“Theon...That was your life before and as Reek. Now that you’re here you can start over. Go anywhere you want. Do what you want to do.” She had reached the wall and was now safe with Jon. She did want Theon here but after the altercations perhaps it would be better that he simply leave and come back when everything seemed to be fine. 

“If you’ll allow me. I would like to get some food.”

“Of course I’ll allow you. I’ll have the chefs make some soup.”

This might have been the first time Theon could choose what he ate. The first thing would be meat and bread for sure. Experience made him hardened to the cold but not unaffected by it. While he could say he was fine his body could be shutting down as they spoke. 

With that, they made their way to the kitchen.


	3. The Wall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A letter arrives

Theon had been given a night’s watch tunic. Theon had yet to grow accustomed to tight fitting clothes. It was sometimes hard to breathe in such tight clothes. Still they were clothes none the less and he wouldn’t take them off even when he slept. Not like he did that much either. 

The Night's watch only ate stew and yet somehow he was still skinner then all of them combined. Davos was reminded somewhat of his own son Matthos while Jon could not pry his dark eyes away from his abdomen. Being in the night's watch for some time he knew that they were tight-fitting, so to see it somewhat loose on his frame, in their smallest size. He looked away from him, hoping to be distracted from him. 

He’d been offered a bath but he opted to pour a bucket of freezing cold water over himself. It lasted less time. He felt good to be so cleansed. He even got to use some soap. He didn't recognise his own smell it had been so long. The sweetness as innocent as a summer child and it made him feel sickly. 

Ramsay enjoyed his hot baths. Ramsay wasn't one to use scented oils but Myranda was. All the small vials of stuff to take the smell of dog off, however whenever she came back from a good day the smell remained on her. 

They were gathered in the hall. Apparently there had been a raven about Jon from Ramsay Bolton. Theon had planned to take his horse in the morning but unfortunately upon hearing the news he couldn't bring himself to leave. At least until they were able to resolve the Ramsay situation. His own curiosity keeping him back. 

Jon, Davos and Sansa all at the table with one of their friends Edd. Theon stood against a wall. He didn't feel comfortable sitting down with them despite their kindness. The Night's Watch members kept their distance but whenever they were forced to exchange courtesies they seemed pleasant. Brienne had offered to sit between him and the enemies. He refused this offer but thanked her nonetheless.

In Jon’s hand a letter. A Flayed man seal broken into two halves. 

"To the traitor and bastard Jon Snow. You allowed thousands of wildlings past the Wall. You have betrayed your own kind. You have betrayed the North. Winterfell is mine, bastard.  
Come and see.”

Theon could practically hear him speaking those words with his own tongue, his mouth so close it would spit into his ear. He could hear the whispering words and the world was not his own, his world was someplace else. He shivered. 

“Your brother Rickon is in my dungeon. His dire wolf’s skin is soon to be on my floor. Come and see. I want my bride back. Send her to me, bastard, and I will not trouble you or your wildling lovers. Keep her from me and I will ride north and slaughter every wildling man, woman, and babe living under your protection. You will watch as I skin them living.”

“So Rickon really is alive.” Theon really had been telling the truth to them. Jon looked over to the Greyjoy. He was in that world of his own again. 

Sansa had been so focused on everything else she hadn’t considered where her other siblings were. She had known that Arya was with the Hound last she heard, then again she had run off to somewhere else. Wherever she was, she was sure she was surviving as she always did. 

Bran and Rickon had apparently vanished since Theon took Winterfell so to hear that Rickon was apparently alive gave her good hope for Bran to be alive as well. Though if Bran had been separated from Rickon at that point he wasn’t sure how a cripple could go so long with only that Hodor by his side. 

Jon took a moment to pause before reading the next part. 

"You will watch as my soldiers take turns raping your sister. You will watch as my dogs devour your wild little brother. Then I will spoon your eyes from their sockets and let my dogs do the rest. Come and see. Ramsay Bolton, Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North.

Theon couldn’t look at Sansa in this moment. The wedding night still fresh in his mind. Sansa also didn’t want to look at Jon. 

Davos spoke. “Jon there’s more at the bottom.”

Jon was hesitant to read out the next part aloud. This was on the basis that he didn't trust it.

“Since I am such a merciful lord I am willing to offer you a deal. A deal that even the most foolish of Lords would be as mad as the king not to accept. Come and see.” Everybody's temperature dropped by two degrees by just hearing those words. Theon was snapped up to Jon. He should have known that there would be a catch to the letter. 

The moment a deal was mentioned was when the ringing began in his ears. Theon’s eyes darting around the room to try focusing on anything. Ramsay had offered a deal to the Iron born and that had gone tits up so one including Jon would definitely lead to a betrayal. 

“I may love your sister but my love for my Reek is boundless and your sister stole him from me. If you return Reek to me then I will grant you another 2 months to prepare for battle. I do hope when we meet I see him along your side. Return your sister and we may avoid a conflict. Come and see. Come and see.” Jon really didn't understand anything of what he said but there wasn't a winter's chance in hell that Sansa was going to be returned to him. The damage to his sister had done at a sacrifice for more time would be unbearable.

“We don't even know what the hell that means? Who’s Reek?” Davos said looking at the letter to see if perhaps Jon had misread the writing. After all Shireen had taught him how to read proper. 

Sansa and Theon shared a glance. The implication of this deal was staggering to the both of them. They needed it like a babe needs their mother. They knew they needed the extra time to prepare considering other resources they had. Sansa wasn't going to abandon Theon now. She had seen the pure horror but the state his mind had been left in and if Theon went back she wasn't sure he could come back a second time.

Theon‘s nails dug into the leather gloves. It wasn’t easy to mark leather but he found a way. His whole body radiating stress. He was surrounded by men who would sacrifice him in a heartbeat and he’d be forced to go back for their gain. 

“Sansa whatever this Reek thing is you have to give it back. We need more time.” 

Sansa took a breath and remembered her mother's words. A lady must never raise her voice to get a point across. If you want to say something say it calmly but with power. None of them could hear Theon was slowly beginning to sway to the left.

“No. We can’t give him back.”

“Where is this Reek then? We can talk about it with him and see what he says.”

Theon turned swiftly back to them. 

“It's me Jon. he wants me back.” Theon said, sick of the tension building up between them. “Ramsay called me Reek and he wants me back.” Theon pulled the coat around his shoulders. The chill wouldn’t normally affect him considering how he slept the past couple of years but when the shiver was in his spine it was a little harder to ignore. Sansa only now seeing how pale he’d become. 

Jon looked down at the page and back to Theon. Ramsay wanted him back more than the literal key to holding the North? In Jon’s mind, it didn’t make any sense. Davos could see Theon’s shaking from where he was sitting and he went up to help support the lad. 

“Don’t you worry lad. We’re not sacrificing anyone.” Davos said placing a hand on his shoulder. Theon pulled away from Davos’ touch. The more he thought about the letter the more the room began to move around him, the ground might as well have been straw for how he feet fell they were falling through.

Jon tried to move forward to talk to Theon but he was too quick for him.

“Please...Excuse me...I must-I have to.” Theon mumbled before hastily making his way out of the hall. 

“Should we go after him?” Davos asked. 

Sansa couldn't answer Davos for a second. She was hoping that maybe Theon could come back into the room but after a couple of seconds she knew he was gone. She didn’t blame him one bit for leaving. She wanted to go to her room alone and stress cry but he had an image to keep up in front of her brother.

“No. He needs someone gentle.” She bit her lip momentarily. 

“Davos is gentle.” In his mind Davos would have a good fatherly talk with him to calm him down. 

“Jon there’s only 3 people he trusts. You have done your part.” Sansa remarked before turning to look for him. Jon wanting to move with her only to find his arm being held back by Ser Davos. The old man shook his head. Jon remained still and looked around, watching as Sansa went forwards and out of the door. 

\----------

Sansa did manage to find him in the end. He’d gone up on the wall itself.

“It’s quite the view isn’t it?” Theon’s voice was cracking. It was clear he had been crying but of course he could use the excuse of the cold air get into his throat. Soothing to his skin but burning in his throat. 

A sudden gasp followed by exhaled condensation. So many men from days gone by could stand up here for hours on end. It would still be easy to simply let go and fall to an abhorrent death. She looked at Theon with weary eyes. It was clear they will both thinking about the same event. The fall was a bit taller than that of the Winterfell walls.

“I hope you're not thinking of jumping.”

“If I was going to jump I would have done it before you got here.” Theon remarked. The truth of the matter was that he had considered letting himself fall the moment they reached the wall. It was Sansa that acted as a barrier. He couldn't leave her alone not now and certainly not with Ramsey still after they had run away so swiftly together. If Sansa could keep on going then he could follow in her footsteps. He wasn't a person who could protect Sansa but he would try his dandiest. 

“My mind went to another place. That place.”

The crack seemed to still be ringing in his ears. He could be enveloped in complete silence and yet somehow the noise still remained. Myranda’s head cracking open. He tried to think of any other noise that he possibly could. Bells maybe. They were loud enough to drown it out. 

The bells had been rung the day Lady Catelyn had brought Sansa into the world. Never stopping from the moment she first wailed until she had been in the world for one whole day. As a boy he heard the bells ringing throughout Winterfell and even then as he approached they hadn't been as loud. 

“I can assure you neither of us will be going back there.”

“Jon will sacrifice me. I know it.” 

He saw no reason as to why Jon wouldn't want to sacrifice a traitorous coward to get more time. They were running short on time as it was. They only had about a month before they were set to ride upon the battlefield. It would make perfect sense. 

“I swear by the Old gods the new gods Theon Greyjoy. You have protected me from Ramsay and his Men now I shall return the favour and protect you from Jon Snow and his men. By my honour as a Stark I swear this to you.”

Sansa was a good ruler and a good ruler would never sacrifice their people. By the gods Theon wished he came out half as strong as Sansa did after Ramsay. She probably would have been strong regardless had she met him or not. Theon knew that though Jon was alive it would be Sansa who would be the one to rule the North. Not just because she bared the right blood but because she knew suffering. 

Theon could see how much Sansa was shivering despite all the warm layers she was wearing. He wrapped his cloak around her and watched to see if it made a difference. She pulled it tighter around herself.

Without any spoken words the two of them agreed to go back down to the Castle. They needed to get back to the warmth and discuss their plans properly and fairly now that Theon could for a coherent sentence.

They looked over everything before seeing Podrick and Brienne in the middle of the court yard. Some other men with them drinking pints of ale. They heard something melodic coming from there. It wasn’t until they both took a seat beside him that they realised that it was in fact Podrick who was singing. 

Podrick’s voice had a great calming effect on him. During their travels in the woods Theon was often focusing on every little sound that they heard and his tension meant that he had trouble sleeping. All of them could do with something to lull them to sleep. The must have spent more time on the wall then he had realised as it was just going into the afternoon. 

A lullaby in the darkness with only the campfire for lighting. One of the few memories of Alannys that he had was him as a young boy after a storm that rocked the foundations of the Iron islands to their core. Baby Theon was cuddling up to his mother as the storms raged and the seas screamed. Theon didn’t hear the screaming as his mother sang to him. Sang about many things. She sang about the fate of Harrenhal, an old maiden and her woodland ghosts and a song where it was always summer under the sea.


End file.
